


Not Where I Belong

by MYuzuki



Series: A Motley Little Crew of Dysfunction [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Jason Todd, Do Not Copy To Another Site Without Permission, Gen, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The whole series is canon divergence really lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-07 09:23:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21455722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MYuzuki/pseuds/MYuzuki
Summary: Jason had planned to have an ordinary weekend: sleep in during the mornings, spend the afternoons reading, and then kick some criminal ass at night.His plans for a regular weekend go right out the window when Essence of the All-Caste contacts him, however. A member of their organization has gone rogue, and Jason is the only person with the time and skills available to track them down.But accepting Essence's request for help means diving back into a world of assassins and spies, and as much as Jason values what he learned while training with the All-Caste he's loathe to return to that lifestyle, even for just a few days. Especially now, when he's finally starting to feel like he's making progress with his family.Things only get more complicated when Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain (a.k.a. Spoiler and Black Bat) somehow get caught up in things.
Series: A Motley Little Crew of Dysfunction [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/824460
Comments: 16
Kudos: 180





	1. Shadows Are Calling Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! Welcome to my latest Jason Todd story. I should probably be working on All My Wolves Begin To Howl, but the plot bunny for this was so persistent I couldn't say no. ;D
> 
> So, the basic idea for this fic has been languishing in my documents for ages, and I'm excited to finally have something to show for it. I've been wanting to write Cass for quite some time, and Steph deserves more love as well so I'm having a lot of fun with this story. There is also a lot of frustration, writer's block, and staring blankly at my computer screen for long stretches of time because writing is hard, lol. That being said, I hope you guys enjoy this latest installment of the Motley Crew of Dysfunction series. It'll be a multi-chapter installment, but I don't have an exact chapter count yet beyond "more than one" so…yeah. XD
> 
> Also, just FYI, this fic was conceived before RHatO # 33, where Essence decided (out of nowhere, as far as I can tell?) that Jason was evil and tried to kill him. (I still haven't read that comic issue itself, but I got the highlights from tumblr, haha). So basically, like all my fics, this is non-canon-compliant, lol. (Alternatively, maybe it just takes place before those events? Idk, it's open to interpretation. :P)
> 
> Story title comes from the Sam Tinnesz song "Far From Home (The Raven)". Enjoy!
> 
> [Also, because of some fanfic theft issues recently, please also enjoy a lovely disclaimer!
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This work was written for publication on Archive of Our Own (under my username MYuzuki) and is not for profit. Any re-publication on for-profit/monetized sites/apps is not authorized or supported by me. If you come across such a re-publication, please leave a comment below or message me on tumblr (@yuzukimist). Podfics and translations are welcome, but please ask permission first.]

**Chapter 1: Shadows Are Calling Me**

* * *

Friday nights in Gotham are quite possibly the seventh circle of hell and Jason's not in a mood to be convinced otherwise.

He's been on the streets since approximately 5pm, and in that time he's stopped twelve murders, thwarted four armed robberies, interrupted two arms deals, halted five muggings, and taken down three drug dealers who'd been dealing to teens in the fringes of the Bowery.

By the time he finally drags himself back to his loft, it's approaching midnight and he's dead on his feet. He barely manages to strip off his helmet and jacket before collapsing onto his bed with a tired groan.

His exhaustion drags him down into a deep sleep seconds after his head hits the pillow, but unfortunately he doesn't _stay_ asleep. Something pricks at his instincts a couple hours later, and he's rolling out of bed and flinging a knife across the room before he can even form a coherent thought beyond _intruder-danger-threat_.

There's a shifting in the shadows and a pale hand snatches his knife out of the air, seconds before it would have stabbed the newcomer through the eye. "Your reflexes haven't dulled, I see," the woman says, darkness twisting around her body as a shaft of moonlight reflects off of her long white hair.

It takes Jason's brain another second to finish waking up entirely, and by the time he fully registers just who is standing in his loft, all he can do is groan. "What do you want, Essence?"

"Such a suspicious mind," she says, her tone somewhere between chiding and amused. "Perhaps all I want is to say hello."

"Nice try," he says flatly, unimpressed. "But no don't just teleport yourself halfway around the world to 'say hello'. We haven't spoken in months, not since the last time you needed my help," he goes on, crossing his arms. "So I'll ask this once more, and bear in mind that I am absolutely willing to shoot you in the face if I don't get a straight answer: What. Do. You Want."

Essence purses her lips, one hand twirling Jason's knife in an absent-minded motion as she narrows her eyes at him. "Be mindful of your tone, Jason," she says warningly. "I'm in no mood for your belligerent attitude today."

"Well, then you've come to the wrong place because you just woke me up after a long night and less than-" He glances at his bedside clock. "-three hours of sleep, so belligerence is the best you're going to get. If that's a problem, feel free to get the hell out of my apartment and not come back."

Essence sucks in a deep breath and for a moment Jason wonders if she's going to yell at him, but then she releases it in an aggravated sigh. "Fine," she says shortly. "You're right, I do need your help."

"So I gathered," Jason says dryly. "After all, you're not really one for social calls." He can count on one hand the number of times he's spoken with Essence since leaving the All-Caste. And yeah, part of that is because they kind of had a relationship and it sort of ended on a sour note when he bailed on the All-Caste in favor of pursuing revenge against Bruce for not avenging his death at the hands of the Joker.

But part of it is also that Essence is a who-knows-how-old woman made up of shadows and magic whose primary focus is her duty to the All-Caste, with little time or emotion to spare for pesky things like maintaining long-distance friendships.

"What do you need?" he asks anyway, because as much as he hates to admit it she wouldn't here if it wasn't something serious. And he's not enough of an asshole to turn away someone who's asking for his help.

(That being said, he very much wishes that she'd picked a better _time_ to ask for his help, because what little sleep he'd managed to get before her sudden arrival was not enough to make up for the godawful Friday night he'd had and he's subsequently not in top form. But there's no fixing that now so he shelves the irritation and focuses on the situation at hand.)

"Another member of the All-Caste has gone rogue," Essence tells him, not bothering to sugar-coat things or mince words (it's one of the things he's always liked best about her, the way she's so direct; you always know where you stand with Essence, for good or ill). "And we've received intelligence reports that suggests this man is starting an organization of his own, one with ill intentions. Durca wants you to track this operative down and neutralize him."

That's…not at all what he was expecting her to say. "Why me?" he asks with a frown. "You guys should be able to handle one rogue fighter without outside help." The All-Caste was a formidable organization, after all; they shouldn't _need_ the help of a Gotham vigilante, not even one with All-Caste training.

"Unfortunately," Essence responds with a grimace, "we have been preoccupied with other matters as of late. The Untitled are stirring up trouble," she adds by way of explanation when Jason arches an eyebrow questioningly. "As the only force capable of matching them in strength and skill, we are morally obligated to meet them in battle. This has left u somewhat…short-handed."

"So…what I'm hearing is that basically there is no one else to send, which is why you're here harassing me."

"You are the best choice given the current circumstances," she says, as if in agreement. "With your skills and training, apprehending the traitor should be a simple enough matter."

Easy to say for the one who doesn't have to do it, Jason thinks, but doesn't give voice to the words. "It depends a lot on how much progress he's made in setting up his organization," he says instead. "If he's got a lot of other guy at his beck and call it could get messy."

Essence waves a hand dismissively. "You are a resourceful individual, Jason, I'm confident that you can handle any difficulties that might arise."

Translation: Not my problem.

Jason thinks that he can feel the first stirrings of a headache forming at the base of his skull and he's hard-pressed to say whether it's because of the sleep deprivation or because of this new hassle that Essence is dragging him into.

"What can you tell me about this guy?" he asks now, because bitching at Essence when she's already in a snit is pretty much a one-way ticket to full-body cast and he's not feeling particularly suicidal today.

(He could probably take her on in a straight-up fight if he absolutely had to, but he's running on two and a half hours of sleep after a long patrol and she has centuries of experience on him; such a fight would be messy and painful and he really just doesn't want to deal with that sort of thing right now, so it's easier to just bite his tongue for the moment.)

"His name is Theodore Montgomery," Essence tells him. "He has been a member of the All-Caste for almost half a decade now. He always seemed loyal to the cause, so his defection came as quite a nasty shock for the rest of us."

Jason gives a hum as he considers that. "Did he exhibit any strange behavior before he turned traitor? Get into any fights with other members, say anything unusual? Were there any recent missions where his performance was substandard or odd in some way?"

Essence seems to think it over for a moment, but then just gives a careless shrug. "I rarely interacted with the man personally, so I know little of him beyond the basics. If he was behaving strangely, I did not notice."

Jason huffs out an annoyed breath, but doesn't comment. Empathy has never really been Essence's strong suit; she's more of a stab-first-ask-questions-never sort of gal. Keeping in line with that, it would have been more surprising if she _had_ noticed something. "Was there anyone in the All-Caste that he was close to before he defected? Friends? A lover?"

Another shrug was his only response. "I have no idea," Essence admitted.

Jason drags a hand down his face, exasperated. "Is there _anything_ about this asshole that you _do_ know?"

Essence gives him an annoyed look. "I know that he has betrayed the All-Caste and poses a danger to others. If you wish to know more, you shall have to investigate yourself."

Jason makes a face at that, because he's been out of the assassins and spies scene for quite some time now, and he's not particularly keen on going back, even temporarily for the sake of a mission. But given the fact that he's already agreed to help, there's not much of a choice in the matter, is there? "Where was he stationed last?"

"According to his dossier, he was running reconnaissance missions out of our outpost in Hong Kong. He was there for approximately seven months before he defected."

"Any idea on where he is now?"

"None," Essence says, and actually sounds a bit regretful about it. "He has covered his tracks well. There were rumors that he'd been sighted in Shanghai and Beijing, but we couldn't confirm the veracity of those claims."

Jason huffs out an irritated breath. "So, you've got nothing, then. Great." He raises a hand to forestall an argument when Essence goes to say something else. "No, forget it, it's fine. I'll find him. It might take a little longer than either of us would prefer, since tracking down his current whereabouts might prove difficult, but I'll find him."

Essence purses her lips like she's already regretting asking him to do this, but she finally acknowledges his assertion with a brusque nod. "Very well. I shall leave you to it, then. Do not fail us, Jason," she adds warningly, and then very abruptly vanishes is a whirl of shadows and frigid air, leaving him alone in his loft once more.

"Yeah, it was great to see you, too," Jason grumbles, stalking over to his closet and rummaging around for a fresh set of clothes. "Thanks for dropping by. Come again anytime."

Once he yanks on a faded t-shirt and an equally threadbare pair of jeans, he books himself a one-way flight to Hong Kong under the alias Todd Peterson (really not his best alias, but it's the only one he has an international passport for at the moment), shoots a quick text off to Alfred to let him know that he'll be out of town for a few days (he doesn't bother sending messages to anyone else, because they may or may not even notice he's gone; besides, Alfred is the only one who can successfully guilt-trip him if he doesn't let him know, and Jason works hard to avoid disappointing Alfred), and hurriedly throws a week's worth of clothing and supplies into a battered duffel bag.

He's on an international red-eye flight within the hour, and he's halfway over the Atlantic when his phone buzzes with an incoming text message.

_Be safe_, is all it says, but it's enough.

_Thanks, Alfie_, he sends back, and then settles down into his seat, determined to get at least a little more sleep before he has to dive headfirst into the criminal underworld of a foreign country in an attempt to locate and neutralize a rogue assassin.


	2. I Can’t Stop the World (But I Promise That I’ll Be Here for You)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, everyone! And thanks for your patience! I finished my latest business classes so I have more time for writing again, which is wonderful. :D Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter! Happy Holidays!
> 
> (Oh, and for anyone who's curious: the chapter title comes from a Sam Tinnesz song, "Be Here For You".)

**Chapter 2: ** **I Can't Stop the World (But I Promise That I'll Be Here for You)**

* * *

Jason arrives at Hong Kong International Airport (also known as Chek Lap Kok Airport after the island it's built on, at least according to the helpful docent loitering in the disembarking area) approximately sixteen hours and twenty-two minutes after departing Gotham. He'd managed to sleep for part of that, but restless dreams had woken him partway into the flight and he'd subsequently spent the rest of the trip taking advantage of the airline's free Wi-Fi to get a little research done. Knowledge is power, after all; the more he knows about what he's stepping into, the smoother things will go.

In any case, the first thing he does once he leaves the airport is find lodgings. The last time he'd been in Hong Kong, he'd just been passing through on his way to rendezvous with Roy and Kori and had opted to just spend the night in cheap yet quaintly decorated hostel. This time, however, that's not going to cut it. Finding this rogue All-Caste operative is almost definitely going to take him more than a single day, and he's not interested in sharing his home base with a dozen nattering tourists during that time.

So he does something he doesn't do very often and cashes in on the fact that his adoptive father is a billionaire. He uses one of the credit cards he'd pilfered from Bruce the last time he'd visited the Manor (a credit card that Bruce has very deliberately _not_ canceled despite discovering that Jason had stolen it exactly fifteen minutes after the fact, which Jason takes as a backwards sort of permission because Bruce is absurd like that) and checks himself into a fancy hotel suite.

Once there, he sets about unpacking what few supplies he'd managed to pack on short notice. His guns he'd had to leave behind, of course, because he hadn't had the time or energy to smuggle them through security, but that's easily remedied: courtesy of his past work with the League of Assassins and the All-Caste, he knows all the shady ways to acquire weapons abroad. He'll just find the right fence when he goes out tonight and that'll be that.

He did manage to get a pair of wickedly sharp ceramic knives through the baggage check, which is both satisfying and terrifying (satisfying because at least now he'll be armed with _something_ when he dives headfirst into the criminal underbelly of Hong Kong, but terrifying because it was _way_ too easy to bypass airport security) so he tells himself to be content with that for now. His training was extensive, after all; if push comes to shove, knives are more than good enough.

Which means that his top priority needs to be gathering information on with a certain Theodore Montgomery. Specifically, what he'd been up to in Hong Kong before vanishing off the grid.

He changes out of his civvies and into his Red Hood gear in record time (sans his helmet, since while domino masks are metal detector friendly, red metal helmets are not and he'd subsequently had to leave it behind), because the sooner he finds Montgomery and deals with him the sooner he can return home to Gotham.

He straps his knives on, checks his grapple to make sure none of the delicate mechanisms were damaged in transit, and then flips the room service sign on his door to DO Not Disturb before vaulting off his twelfth-story balcony and into the hazy gloom of the Hong Kong dusk.

Racing across the rooftops is both familiar and not; he's used to parkouring across skyscrapers from his time in Gotham, but Hong Kong is indisputably a different sort of city from what he's accustomed to. Gotham has always tended more towards gritty and Gothic, whereas Hong Kong is brighter and sharper, even at night.

(It's also significantly cleaner at first glance, without the rat-infested dumpsters and heaps of uncollected trash that are so common to Gotham's alleys and side streets, and Jason wouldn't have expected such a thing to be such a noticeable difference but somehow it is.)

Eventually, Jason drops down to street-level, because as much as he loves bounding across the rooftops he's not as familiar with this city' skyline as he is with Gotham's; if he wants to get to where he's going without wasting time, he needs to take the low road.

He thwarts a mugging on his way to Montgomery's last known safe-house, but beyond that the trip to the Yuen Long district is surprisingly devoid of trouble; Hong Kong, it seems, has a slightly better handle on crime than Gotham does.

(Or maybe all the action is just in another part of town tonight; he figures that's possible, way, he's not looking a gift horse in the mouth; the fewer detours and interruptions he has to deal with, the better.)

The streets of the Yuen Long district itself feel slightly more ominous and threatening, if not overtly so. Not surprising, really, given that this district in particular has higher crime rates than the rest of Hong Kong; it's all the more noticeable thanks to lower crimes rates in the other districts (all in all, Hong Kong's crime rate as a whole was going down -was in fact the lowest it had been in over forty years- but that just makes the higher levels of violence in Yuen Long stand out in comparison).

The streets seem quiet enough right now, but Jason knows better than to take that for granted; he's seen things go from quiet to explosive faster than he can blink, and he's not about to let his guard down even for a second. Especially not in a district where triads are rumored to be more in charge of the streets than the police.

He locates Montgomery's old safe house easily enough thanks to the research he'd done while on the plane; it's a simple one-room apartment in a building that needs a little TLC in a part of town that looks a tiny bit shabbier than the surrounding areas. Jason vaguely wishes that the asshole had instead had a safe-house in one of the more rural parts of the district because then he could at least enjoy a more scenic location, but he dismisses the thought as quickly as it comes; he's here to do a job, not to sight-see.

He picks the lock on the front door and is initially underwhelmed with his first impression of Theodore Montgomery's safe house. To call it a small and dingy flat is accurate, but somehow not enough to really convey how dismal the place is; the faux-hardwood floor is stained and has deep gouges in strange places (where heavy furniture had been dragged across at some point, Jason assumes, but it's impossible to say for certain), the curtains are tattered and hanging in front of windows covered in a thin film of grime, and the plaster on the walls is cracked and flaking in more places than he can count.

There's also the fact that the place looks like it got ransacked sometime in the last few days; overall, the apartment rather gives off the impression that a Tasmanian devil had torn through it in a fit of pique. There are books strewn across the floor near a broken bookcase and old takeout containers discarded on the rickety-looking card table shoved in the corner, along with several trashcans full to bursting of shredded scraps of paper.

_Looks like Montgomery was trying to cover his tracks_, Jason thinks, kneeling down next to one of the shredders and pulling out a handful of paper strips. _Not very thoroughly, either_, he notes, because if this Theo asshole had wanted to be totally thorough, he would have burned all of the documents after shredding them, not just left the scraps sitting around because he couldn't be bothered to dispose of them.

But like most modern day idiots, Montgomery had apparently assumed that shredding was enough, that no one would ever have the time or inclination to piece together those little shreds of paper and analyze them for tidbits of information.

An amateur mistake,in Jason's opinion, even though he's self-aware enough to know that unless he really _has_ to, he isn't going to bother to piece together those little shreds of paper; he's patient for some things, but sifting through ten pounds of shredded paper isn't one of them. There are other ways to find answers, after all. It's just the principle of the thing that bothers him, really. A (supposedly) well-trained operative goes rogue, and then proceeds to fuck up basic evidence disposal? Come _on_.

(If this idiot is representative of the people the All-Caste is recruiting these days, Jason isn't surprised that the organization's bee struggling lately. Apparently, when Essence had said that he was the only available person skilled enough to remove Montgomery from the picture, she really had meant it.

Out of the entire cohort she had at her disposal, Essence's first choice when she needed help was someone who was no longer even officially a member of the organization.

It's a disturbing thought for a variety of reasons, and it only makes him increasingly agitated the more he thinks about it so he shelves that issue for contemplation at a later date and refocuses on the task at hand.)

He does a quick pass through the rest of the apartment, looking for any obvious clues as to where Theodore Montgomery might have done, but it really is a tiny space so he's done with his initial search in approximately two minutes and forty-seven seconds with nothing new learned other than the fact that the man had decent taste when it came to fast food but terrible taste when it came to literature.

(Honestly, it was like the man had the soul of a very twisted AP English teacher the way his book collection looked.)

Because he_ really_ doesn't want to spend the next ten hours of his life painstakingly taping together shredded sheets of paper, Jason does another pass through the flat, performing his search more thoroughly this time. He checks for hidden spaces under the floors and in the walls, inspects the storage spaces the cupboards and closet, and in general just searches the dingy little apartment so carefully that he's pretty sure he could mentally map out the space with his eyes closed if he had to.

Unfortunately, it nets him absolutely nothing useful. Until he starts absently thumbing through some of Montgomery's books, that is.

He's flipping through a dog-eared copy of Crime and Punishment (more to keep his hands busy than anything) when something flutters out from between the pages to land on the floor. Frowning, Jason leans over to pick it up and sees that it's some sort of public transit ticket; for a train, he thinks, although he can't be absolutely certain about that until he double-checks the Chinese characters with the translation app on his phone.

On a hunch, he flips through some of the other books, and is rewarded with a few more used train tickets; again, he can't be positive about the specifics, but it's the same print on almost all of them, except for the time-stamp, so it seems like Theodore Montgomery had taken the same train trip on a few different occasion.

Which means that there must be something important in vicinity of that other train stop; Montgomery wouldn't have been going there with such frequency if there wasn't. All Jason needs to do now is figure out where and what it is.

Pocketing the tickets, he leaves the apartment.

He makes it about four blocks before he stumbles into a fight; there's a familiar figure in purple squaring off against five well-armed thugs and Jason leaps into the fray before he can really process what's happening or feel anything besides a vague sort of confusion mixed with protectiveness.

"Fancy meeting you here," the woman in purple says once the fighting is all over, the familiar cadence of her voice carrying through the night air as she absently tugs her face mask down to brush a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

"What the hell are you doing in Hong Kong, Blondie?" Jason asks, and maybe it comes out harsher than he intends but Stephanie doesn't flinch. Spoiler's made of sterner stuff than most girls her age and has been through more shit than people _three_ times her age; it'll take more than a cutting tone of voice to make her balk.

And true to form she just gives him an overly bright smile before tugging her face mask back into place. "It's nice to see you, too, asshole," she says cheerfully, clearly not put off by his surliness. "And for your information, I'm in town helping Black Bat."

Jason frowns. "I didn't realize she was back in Hong Kong," he says, because as far as he knew Cassandra was comfortably situated in Gotham, content with patrolling the streets at night and taking dance lessons during the day. Hell, he'd spoken to her just last week, consulting with her about a case, and she hadn't mentioned anything about returning to Hong Kong.

"Only for a week," a soft voice says from directly behind him, and Jason leaps about half a foot into the air.

"Holy fluffernutters, Cass, _don't do that_," he complains, his heart thundering like a jackhammer in his chest. Christ on a cracker, he hadn't even heard her approach; not so much as a whisper of a cape to clue him in, and he'd be irritated at himself for not being more mindful of his surroundings except it's Cassandra-freaking-Cain and no amount of mindfulness would have prevented her from sneaking up on him.

(He forgets, sometimes, that her mother's Lady Shiva, but moments like this remind him.)

"Good for you," Cass tells him, her voice soft but tinged with amusement. "Keeps your heart young."

"Gives me a fucking coronary, you mean," he grumbles, but there's no real heat in it. He'll probably never actually say so, but he (like the rest of the family) adores Cass. It's hard not to, really. And unlike with the others, he doesn't need to verbalize it, or prove his loyalty and intentions. She just _knows_, and he wouldn't have thought that such a thing would be a relief, but somehow it is.

(No matter how much he snaps and snarls, Cass sees him. _Really_ sees him, in a way the others sometimes don't. Even now, when things are better than they've been in a while, sometimes they look at him and see the Robin-that-was, or the Robin-that-went-bad. They see someone broken, and he _is_, he's very much aware of that. But he's more than that, too, more than what his trauma turned him into, and Cassandra can see it.

Sometimes, even when they don't mean to, the others look at him and they see just the Red Hood.

With Cass, no matter where he is or what he's doing, all she ever sees is Jason.

He's never told her how grateful he is for that, but then again he supposes he doesn't have to; she knows that, too.)

"You're working a case?" he says now, because there's no other reason for Cass to be in Hong Kong wearing her Black Bat uniform and gear.

"Weapons smugglers," Cassandra tells him with a small nod. "Ties to Penguin."

"Cobblepot, huh?" Jason snorts, shaking his head. "Figures."

"Yeah," Steph says, "when we found the connection with the Iceberg Lounge, we weren't exactly surprised, y'know? Anyway, what brings the Red Hood to Hong Kong?"

Jason gives an aggravated sigh. "Nothing as simple as a smuggling operation, unfortunately. I'm doing a favor for an old friend," he explains when all they do is look at him expectantly. "An All-Caste operative went rogue, and I'm trying to track them down."

"The All-Caste?" Spoiler echoes, sounding confused. "How did you get mixed up in their business?"

"Hm? Oh, no one ever told you?" Jason isn't sure whether he finds that surprising or not. "After Talia tossed me in the Pit, she sent me around the world to train with different….experts, let's call them. One of the groups I trained with was the All-Caste. I'm no longer an active member, obviously-" He gestures to the bright red bat emblazoned on his body armor to emphasize the point. "-but they get in touch from time to time whenever they need something."

Cass peers at him intently for a moment. "You're hunting alone," she says after a few seconds of careful inspection. "No back up?"

"Nope," he says, popping the 'P' with a nonchalance he doesn't feel. "Apparently the rest of the organization is busy with other things, so I'm flying solo on this one." And he doesn't mind, really he doesn't. He's used to being on his own; it's his default state when he's not stirring things up in the criminal underworld with Roy and Kori.

(But a part of him can't help but wish he had someone watching his back for this particular mission; he's not thrilled to be diving back into the shadowy realm of spies and assassins, not when he's worked so hard to avoid getting dragged into that world again.)

Cassandra frown and exchanges a look with Stephanie; it's a speaking look, like they're having an entire conversation without uttering a single word. "Not alone anymore," Cassandra says decisively as she nods to Stephanie before turning back to face him.

"Wait, what?" Jason stares at her. "What do you mean?"

"She means that we're coming with you, of course," Stephanie replies, her tone indicting that this should be obvious.

Jason opens his mouth, sees the stubborn looks on their faces, and knows that he's already lost the argument despite not having said a damn thing yet. "I don't actually get a say in this, do I?" he asks instead, and if his tone comes out reluctantly fond instead of aggravated, well.

"No," Cass and Steph say in unison.

Jason huffs out something that's a cross between a sigh and a laugh. "Alright, then," he relents. "But you'd better keep up," he tosses out over his shoulder as he resumes walking down the street in the general direction of the hotel.

_Thanks_, he doesn't say, but it hovers in the air between the three of them regardless, and he knows that Cassandra understands from the way she smiles.


End file.
